Out Of The Ashes
by asthefirespread
Summary: "We kneel in the ashes of his loved ones and lament everybody we've lost in the last two years." A series of one shots depicting Peeta and Katniss growing back together.
1. Chapter 1

It starts the day we go to the bakery. Or rather the ruins of it.

There is nothing there, really. Some rubble left over, the foundations barely intact. Just an empty space, where once had stood the home where he'd taken his first steps, eaten his meals every night, did his homework. Now nothing more than a layer of ash covering the ground.

I hadn't been sure about him going, but he hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. And it went without saying that he needed me there – the look in his eyes when he asked me 'please' was enough to sway me.

We walk hand in hand to the town, or what is left of it. People mill around, picking apart rubble, throwing remains into trucks to be buried in the surrounding area. We quietly manoeuvre without much notice; so much for the famous star-crossed lovers from District Twelve. Now we are nothing more than a pair of broken teenagers trying to piece our lives back together.

We've recently been spending more time together. He'd come over for breakfast and dinner, and then started staying longer into the evenings. We'd watch television, on different sides of the couch at first, but it didn't take long for me to find myself hesitantly curled up in his lap whilst he absent-mindedly stroked the charred remains of my hair. It's been about a week since we started sharing a bed again – tentative at first, but I remember waking up this morning to the sound of his heart, and I remember being so thankful for it.

When we arrive at the bakery, we stand in silence for a while. I used to be able to read him so well, but he is a blank canvas to me now. I don't realise I am staring at him until he turns to me, his blue eyes shining with the ghosts that lived here. His face crumples, his shoulders sagged, his body erupting into a fit of sobbing. He kneels on the floor, tears streaming down his face, and I kneel beside him, wrapping my arms around him. They shook with his body, and I feel him clinging to me, as if I am the one thing keeping him from going over the edge. We kneel in the ashes of his loved ones and lament everybody we've lost in the last two years.

Eventually his sobs begin to quieten, his body stills, his breathing deepens. He turns to look at me, his blue eyes ringed with a violent red. I don't even realise I am crying until his fingers stroke across my face, wiping the tears away. I feel his arms slide around me and pull me close, so I am able to faintly smell the cinnamon he must've been baking with this morning. I feel his lips touch the joint where my neck and shoulder meet and am taken back to the middle of the night, on a train when I couldn't sleep and wanted nothing more than him to hold me and chase away the demons that plagued my conscience. Warmth radiates throughout my body, a welcome sensation, and I hold him tighter to me if that's possible. He whispers in my ear that he misses them and I promise him that we'll remember them. That we'll make their deaths count by living well. He pulls away to look at me, the ghost of the boy who held me in the cave lingering in his eyes and in the hint of a smile on his lips. He leans forward and I meet him halfway. We kiss for the first time since the mayhem of the Capitol, sealing our promise. I then place a kiss on his forehead, before weaving my fingers through his and pulling him to his feet. He takes a last look at the ruins of his childhood home, of his old life, and then follows me to start a new one.

* * *

**A/N - This was originally supposed to be a one shot written on a high after watching the Catching Fire movie, but after many late nights, I've managed to produce an almost 10,000 word document that's still in progress! This is the first in a series of one shots depicting Katniss and Peeta's life after the war and how they grew back together - rather one shots than chapters just because there's no particular link between the chapters although they will be posted in a specific order. If that makes any sense!**

**Also if you read my fanfiction 'Little Notes' I'm afraid I'm putting it on hold for now - I don't particularly have the inspiration to write it anymore so I'm taking a break from it. I'm not sure if I'll return to it, but I'll let you know if I do! **

**This fic should be updated on a weekly basis, and feedback and reviews keep me going and are always greatly appreciated, even if it's a couple of words. Thank you! xo**


	2. Chapter 2

We start spending more and more time together after that. He stays at mine every night, and we wake up regularly to the sound of one another's screams, followed by quiet words of comfort that remind us the world of our dreams is gone. Sometimes it works; and sometimes it is a bitterly painful reminder of the people we lost with that world. But his arms hold me close and remind me of what I still have, which makes it bearable.

He is usually awake before me and has made breakfast by the time I venture downstairs. Afterward I go to hunt and he goes home to bake. I spend my days traipsing the woods of my childhood, the ghosts of my father and hunting partner never far behind. Whatever I manage to shoot down becomes our dinner, but sometimes I get ahead of myself and catch too much, resulting in a trip to my old mentor's house. He's usually found in his yard, feeding the small army of geese he's been acquiring since our return, or passed out on his couch. This time he is heading in as I arrive, and waves me to join him.

As soon as I close the door he's opening up his latest favourite type of alcohol, whiskey. I place my game bag on his counter, pulling out the two squirrels for him, when he pipes up, "So what's with you and the boy?"

"What do you mean?" I try to sound as neutral as possible.

"Your little arrangement - him staying round your house every night. Cooking you dinner, going into town holding hands. Don't think I haven't noticed."

"What about it? What's it to you?" I say, more severely than intended.

"I was sent back here to look after you, sweetheart," he says. His voice then quietens, "I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

The seriousness of Haymitch's tone lets me know his concerns are genuine. It stops me for a moment because I don't know what to say. I've tried not to put too much thought into mine and Peeta's relationship up until this point – I did that before and all it did was cause uncertainty and pain on both sides. And there are moments when I'm with him and feel genuinely content, even happy for a few seconds. My mind wanders to this morning we were eating breakfast together, and once he had finished, his hand slipped under the table to find mine, tracing patterns into my skin. Of course I'm still terrified; that he'll wake up and just leave, that he'll slip back to the way he was before he came home. But he takes his medication every morning, as do I and we keep on moving. I tell myself I will cross that bridge if I come to it, and only then.

"I know you love him sweetheart. Anybody could see that," he says. I can feel the tears springing to my eyes. "But he's never going to be the same person he was."

I feel the tears free fall down my cheeks, mourning the loss of the boy who would make jokes on his deathbed and confess his love for me in the most offhand way. Now replaced with a boy whose laugh is difficult to come by, who's constantly asking for permission to hold my hand or kiss me. Haymitch crosses the room and pulls me into an awkward hug and I respond, because he must miss that boy too.

"No, he's won't ever be the same person," I say, pulling away. "But neither will I." Haymitch doesn't respond to that, so I leave his game on the table and head back home.


End file.
